I’ve sat here for half an hour,
Getting bitter, getting sour.
I’ve pondered things for half a day,
To find the words that I would say.
I’ve lived with this for half a year,
And still, I cannot get quite clear.
I harbor doubt in my decision.
I hold myself with some derision.
I may regret how I’ve come free.
That I can hear, and I can see.
Though boundaries were preventing me,
From moving forth obstensively.
The boundaries also helped refine,
The better uses of a mind.
To flail about without the bounds,
Has somehow brought me back to ground.
The thing I tried to escape from,
Is again what I’ve become.
Perhaps there is no escape,
Through a heart that is agape,
Perhaps there should be more intent,
To utilize the circumvent.
To tolerate, and to resist.
The proper measures must exist.
But where and when and how much?
These to feel but never touch.
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